What Remains
by Starship Artisan
Summary: "After all these years, she still had his cloak." PruHun drabble. Based off episode 39 of World Series.


A/N: Random thing I wrote while I was at my cabin. Based off the first part of World Series Episode 39.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own Hetalia.

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"_You can keep it."_

The words rang through her head continuously as she gazed at the cloak that was thrown unceremoniously on her lap. She still wondered why he did some of the things that he has done, and to her, this was one of those moments. She stood up and without a second thought, she draped the cloak around her shoulders; tugging it around herself to make it feel more comfortable. She tiredly walked home, and when she arrived, she was surprised to see someone slumped against the front door of her house.

It wasn't hard to tell who it was—what with the messy silver spikes of hair—but they were unmoving and silent as she quietly approached the figure; she realized that he must have fallen asleep.

Why was he here, though?

Elizabeta stood a few inches in front of him, and proceeded to stare at the top of his head. She crouched down and looked at him curiously; she reached out a hand and shook his shoulder, causing him to jolt awake and, in turn, surprising her.

He looked dazed for a moment before his eyes seemed to focus on her, and he jumped up quickly, sputtering incoherent phrases all the while.

"It's not like I came here because I was worried or anything! I just thought that you would need some of my awesome help since you were hurt and—"

"Gilbert, shut up." She said with a sigh, successfully cutting him off. His mouth snapped shut, and the two of them ended up staring at each other in silence for a few moments. Suddenly, he turned his head away and she swore that he had a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. She smirked at the obvious embarrassment, and decided to tease him.

"Hey, Gil, is something wrong?"

His head snapped toward her and his eyes widened for a moment. She cocked her head to the side in a fake act of innocence, and he opened his mouth only to snap it shut once again.

"I… I have to go!" He stated quickly, and brushed past her in a hurry.

She turned around, not thinking that he would simply run off. She reached out a hand, hoping that he'd come back.

"Wait!" She yelled loudly, and with a slight tinge of urgency. He stopped dead in his tracks, gulped, and spun around on his heel. "Do you want your cloak back?" She asked, even though she wouldn't mind keeping it as a sort of… reminder of him.

He looked blankly at her for a second, before his expression turned stern and he grumbled a quick "No" and turned around, walking away like he had earlier that day.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, she started to run—in turn, shaking the cloak from her shoulders—and once she reached his retreating figure, she reached out and enclosed her arms around his frame. Gilbert stopped and his shoulders stiffened, and Elizabeta swore that she could see his jaw and even his neck turn beet red.

"Ha-ha ha ha!" He laughed nervously, trying to relieve his obvious embarrassment and hide it from his friend. "I knew that you couldn't resist me and my awesomeness, you crazy bitch!" Regardless of the insult, she smiled at his attempt to cover up his emotions—even though by this point her ears were a bright shade of red.

Seeing that there was no angry reaction, he quickly (and reluctantly) slipped out of her embrace and ran off as fast as he could.

He swore, though, that he heard a whisper of, "Thank you."

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As Elizabeta reminded herself of that day, she couldn't help but smile to herself. His antics never ceased to amuse her, even if they did annoy her for the majority of the time. It was what made him, well, _him. _She remembered when he was a Teutonic Knight, and she reflects rather fondly on those times.

Suddenly, she remembered something.

Getting up from her seat, she walked through her house to her bedroom and made a beeline to the closet.

She opened it and shifted a large portion of the items out of the way, and dug her way through the other piles of clothing that she had neglected over the years. She swore that some of these items must have been at least a thousand years old.

Soon, she found what she was looking for. She beamed, happy that she still had it.

After all these years, she still had his cloak.

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A/N: I'm really not sure about this one, so please let me know what you think!


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